


The Further I Pull Away the Closer I End Up to You

by Katsuu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Separation, Violence, implied sex, open-ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsuu/pseuds/Katsuu
Summary: When Shiro wakes up to find himself in the clutches of unfamiliarity and hopelessness, his thoughts can't help but stray to Keith and the warmth his loved one once provided him; a warmth that Shiro has long since been aching for from the moment of his departure for the Kerberos Mission. As he begins to realize the dispiriting permanence of his new situation, his memories take him back to a time when pure happiness was more than just a hope; and despite all the torment that Shiro has no other choice but to bear, his vow to Keith alone is what provides him a single light in the darkness that wraps itself around him, becoming the one and only thing pushing him to survive as it keeps him from relinquishing his faith that he will find a way back home to the one person he loves.





	The Further I Pull Away the Closer I End Up to You

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [Shiro Big Bang](http://voltronbigbang.tumblr.com/) and paired with with these two lovely artists: [@cycychang](http://cycychang.tumblr.com/) & [@yaineart](http://yainedraws.tumblr.com/) ~
> 
> Also unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own; if you get at least a little enjoyment out of reading this, it would make me happy ~ : )

_Pain_.

        Pulsing warmly, throbbing erratically -- carving scars into an invisible canvas that would always remember the sharp lines of its familiar touch.

        It was the first thing that greeted Shiro the moment he regained consciousness, his eyes fluttering open weakly when the distinct sound of footsteps echoing atop a metallic floor registered in his ears and stirred his other senses, waking him up.

        Without him wanting it to, a groan slip past his lips while his vision swayed before him in a blurred mass of dark colors, his body having yet to register that he had even woken up at all -- considering the majority of his limbs felt incredibly sluggish and like they weighed a lot more than they actually should've. Shiro could only assume it was because he'd just woken up. It also seemed to take more than a few seconds for the dull pain he was feeling in his arms to finally register, the sensation igniting his nerves with a strong wave of discomfort that helped (at least a little) to clear away the fog that drifted about heavily in his head like a hot and stuffy blanket clinging uncomfortably to him.

        Despite how much it was actually hurting him though, its increasing clarity helped him to pinpoint the source of his pain and figure out exactly where it was coming from.

        The more he focused on it, the more he was able to tell it originated from the aching throb that was coming right from where his arm was connected to his shoulder; and if Shiro had to try to describe the way that it felt using words, he knew that he'd say it felt almost as though his arms were being pulled out of their sockets -- because that was exactly what it felt like, and he wished more than anything else that it would stop sometime soon.

        Not the best of sensations to wake up to, honestly.

        He had to try his best to refrain from crying out as the intensity of his pain continued to grow, and it was at that moment that his mind finally freed itself from its fog and caught up with everything else; and finally he remembered where he was -- what had happened.

        Fragments of memory flashed across his brain like broken shards of glass that sliced and cut him with every recollection that blended within the expanse of his mind: Matt laughing as they stepped out of their small ship and became the very first people to ever walk on Kerberos, Pluto’s moon; Dr. Holt putting his hand atop Shiro’s shoulder and smiling excitedly at him as he explained what the lack of atmosphere meant for their possible findings; a dark shadow growing over them as they started taking samples from the ground, followed by a huge blast that threw all of them into the air before they even had a chance to try and get away.

        The aliens that had attacked them... Matt, Dr. Holt… everything that happened when that massive ship had approached them on Kerberos -- Shiro remembered it all now.

        Every single memory crashed over him like a sudden intense and suffocating weight, and with them came an overwhelming wave of nausea. Shiro had to squeeze his eyes shut quickly; embrace the quiet comfort of darkness that rushed in automatically to meet him, because if he didn't, he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep himself from being sick. His blood seemed like it was going cold even as it flowed through his veins. Fear grasped a hold of heart and squeezed tightly with its sharp claws, the organ pounding rapidly beneath his ribcage as his breathing became uneven and lost its usual steadiness.

        He hadn't felt this much fear in such a long while; for the first time in his life, Shiro was faced with something completely foreign and new to him. He didn't know what was happening, and he somehow already realized that wherever he was wasn't a place that he could feel at ease in. The notion of that alone aroused a fear in him that was familiar, but that he’d left behind in his past already. But while he wasn't as used to it as maybe he had been before, he still remembered what he needed to do if he was to move past it and clear it from his mind, if only temporarily so that he could help calm himself down.

        So he clenched his fists tightly; and, keeping his eyes closed, tried to ignore the stinging pain that was emanating from his wrists and the base of his shoulders like a bright flare burning hotly in the night sky.

 _Okay, Shiro,_ he thought as light-heartedly as he could inside his head, just as he became vaguely aware that he was being dragged somewhere by someone, or... _something..._  His eyes fluttered open for a brief second out of instinct to see who was holding him by the wrists, but almost immediately he pushed the idea from his mind when it arose; because he knew that if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to put his focus in trying to block out the pain so that he could concentrate on figuring out how to get over the fear that was threatening to drown him beneath it's crushing weight).

 _Remember your survival training at the Garrison, and all the times that you've ever felt afraid before,_ he ran calmly through his head, wincing slightly as the dark hallway around him swirled in and out of focus before his eyes -- the loud pounding of his heart seemed to echo against his chest like the steady beat of a drum while he closed his eyes, trying his best to keep from getting sick due to the the disorientation that surrounded him and quickly began to overload his senses with its incessant prodding. It seemed as though everything around him was trying its best to just throw him off -- as though someone was trying to keep him in the dark for as long as they could, both figuratively and literally -- either way he needed to keep trying, no matter how hard it was to maintain his focus when everything around him swirled about in a state of disarray. Breathing in slowly, he gathered his concentration close to him and tapped into it so he could remember what he needed to remember. 

 _What was the first thing you were always told to do when faced with uncertainty_?

        The answer came easily to Shiro, as though it had been waiting there for him all this time in the farthest recesses of his mind; even though he'd had no other need before the current moment to recall that particular phrase for quite a while. Despite the length of time that had passed since he’d last remembered it, what he’d been taught at the Garrison echoed in his head like a soothing mantra that set his heart at ease. He remembered what to do.

 _Evaluate your surroundings -- locate the source of your fear. Then, once found, begin searching for possible solutions to immediately alleviate it._  

        "Okay..."

        Shiro breathed out quietly, eyes still closed tightly; he just hoped that the... _thing_... that was dragging him hadn't heard him. When he was met with no indication that it had, Shiro slowly opened his eyes again and was greeted immediately with the purplish hue of a dim light he hadn't noticed before upon waking up -- one that seemed to glow faintly all about him throughout the hallway he was being dragged down, painting the walls with dark shadows of purple. To his immense relief though, his eyes were finally starting to focus.

        His heart continued to pound heavily in his chest as he chanced a glance to his right, and what he saw immediately turned his blood cold.

        Through a large glass window that looked out into a wide expanse of room, Shiro could see what looked like hundreds upon hundreds of what he could only guess were containment cells; each currently in use, based on the dark shapes that shifted about slowly inside of them.

        Okay… so his heart rate had just jumped again, but he closed his eyes once more and used the familiar darkness to focus on retaining his composure, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm that slowly calmed his nerves as he listened to the sound of the air exiting his lips.

_Okay....what else can you see?_

        He opened his eyes and looked over to his left, only to be greeted with a wall that glowed purple at its edges, much like everything else in the hallway. Chancing a cautious glance upwards in an attempt to try and see what his captor looked like, Shiro only ended up wincing, the positioning of his neck further disturbing the pain he felt in his shoulders; and so to alleviate it, he lowered his head again and tried to relax the muscles he had in that area, listening intently instead to the footsteps that had woken him up in the first place.

 _Metallic..._ he recalled as he listened to them. The clank, clunk of the noise they made echoed all about the hallway and the first guess that Shiro could make as to what the thing holding him was, was 'robot' (maybe even a sentry?); and sure enough, when he looked for his captor's reflection in the large window off to the side of him, he could just barely make out a gray silhouette that resembled nothing remotely close to a living being, despite its humanoid appearance.

        But then again... nothing about what had happened so far made any sense at all. And did it matter whether or not the thing that was dragging him across the floor was alive or not? The aliens that had captured them already proved that they were hostile.

        Shiro needed to get out of there.

        And if he even could, then he needed to figure out where Matt and Dr. Holt were -- get them out. And then somehow find a way for them to all get back home.

        Though... that alone seemed impossible to Shiro, just from how it sounded in his head. But he had to try.

        He now at least knew why he was so afraid: everything around him was so unfamiliar -- Shiro had no idea where he was, why they'd all been captured, and what the aliens were going to do with him. Even now, he was finding it increasingly hard to keep the fear he felt inside of him from overwhelming his senses and taking control of everything.

        Ever fiber in his being was pleading for him to fight his way free and run, but Shiro knew he risked the chance of making things worse if he didn't at least try to evaluate his situation first.

        And the only way he could honestly think of doing that was to try and talk to the sentry, as stupid as that sounded. If it could talk at all. Because Shiro didn't think anything excessively bad would happen if he at least tried -- or, at the very least, talking would probably receive him the least severe punishment out of everything else he might try and do.

        Shutting his eyes one final time (since keeping them open merely showed him things that caused the uncertainty within him to rise), Shiro took a minute to compose himself before opening them and trying his best to physically steel himself for whatever punishment might come.

        He hoped the sentry at least would be able to understand _some_ of what he was going to try and say to it; he wasn’t even sure if the aliens they had seen when they’d first been brought into the ship had understood what he’d told them when he’d said that they were a peaceful race -- if they had, they’d still attacked him. However, even if he didn’t know if the sentry would understand him, he still had to try communicating with it. So, gripping his fists, he let his voice carry out clearly into the dark silence.  

        "Where are you taking me?" he asked firmly, making sure that none of the fear that was currently wrapped around his heart crept into his voice. It was something his _obaasan_ (his grandmother on his mother’s side) had taught him when he was very little, back when he’d first dreamt about becoming a space pilot -- _"Even if you're scared, Takashi; even if you feel like you're about to collapse in on yourself from it all, never show it in your face, or your voice. Others will be able to see it and will be able to use it against you. Find the strength that comes from here, from within, and use it to keep moving forward."_

        Shiro’s grandmother had been very close to him when he was very little; she still was to that day, though he never got to see or talk to her as much as he used to.

        As her words passed through his head like they had so many years ago, Shiro glanced to his side as best he could, face set in a determined manner as his eyes flashed with all the strength he could muster from within him -- with that at least, he hoped that he could hide what he was really feeling inside and eventually convince himself that everything was going to be okay, as long as he trusted in himself and his capabilities -- which he did. It was his uncertainty that was making him feel on edge.

        As he looked at the sentry’s reflection in the window, he saw that its head had turned to listen when he had spoken, and the maroon strip of light that made up what would have been its eyes flashed brightly for just a brief moment. Shiro’s heart jumped hopefully and finally, it responded.

        "Silence, Prisoner 117-9875," it replied in an electronically synthesized voice that echoed faintly through what Shiro assumed was its throat, sounding a lot like raindrops falling against metal. With that said, it continued to move along down the hallway, where the purple light around them seemed to dim a bit the further they went. Shiro's eyes narrowed angrily.

        "What do you want from us?! _Where are my friends?_ " he shouted, fists clenching again.

        The sentry merely ignored him and turned into another hallway that Shiro saw was lined with several doors on either side of them, a thin opening at the top of each door the only thing allowing light into the small rooms that Shiro could only assume laid behind them.

        Everything felt so cold as they passed by… so desolate and… hopeless.

        From some of the doors, Shiro could see various pairs of eyes peering through at them as they passed, a few hushed voices whispering back and forth to one another as whoever or whatever was in the rooms, or... _cells_...communicated with one another.

        Shiro thought he could hear something along the lines of, _"Look they brought in another one,"_ but he wasn’t able to hear what the response to that fragmented statement was. And then there were other phrases that he could just barely catch, like, _"Who is it?"_ and _"Over there, it's another one."_

        And that led him to believe that he wasn’t the only one who’d been captured; that from the sound of things, this happened on a regular basis. Hundreds of individuals, stolen from their home planets or someplace else and then imprisoned here.

_For what purpose though?_

        A small puff of frustration escaped him as the voices stirred more anxiety within him, and he clenched his hands tightly again, the only thing, really, that he could do as he struggled to try and move his wrists. It took everything in him to keep from crying out when the sentry's hand clamped down tighter around his wrists, the robot glancing back briefly at him to make sure he was still subdued.

"Cease moving," it intoned emotionlessly, metal hand crushing Shiro's wrists with a strength unlike anything Shiro had ever felt before; pain shot through his nerves and fired through the synapses of his brain, igniting them with pangs and twinges that almost made him want to vomit. He had to grit his teeth so that he wouldn't cry out, and it took longer than he almost wasn't able to stand before the sentry finally loosened its grip and returned to holding him the way it had been doing before. His wrists ached and throbbed painfully as his hands trembled weakly in its grasp -- it definitely felt like they were going to bruise...

        No matter how many questions he tried to continue asking, he had already gotten the answer to the one question on his mind that he hadn't yet voiced: escaping was going to be harder and extremely more dangerous than he'd originally thought… (or rather, had hoped). Not only was everything so unfamiliar and alien to him, the odds of him getting away from the sentry holding him were pretty slim, what with its strength and everything.

        But if he wanted to escape, now was his best opportunity to try, even with how much more difficult things had just become.

        Sure, the sentry had already proven that it was inhumanly strong, but it was the only one around him right now; and if Shiro had read its reflection right in the window he'd passed earlier, then there should've been a gun attached to its left hip that he might be able to grab somehow.

        If Shiro could get a hold of it, then he'd have a chance to make a break for it. And _a_ chance was better than no chance at all.

 _Okay; it's now or never,_ he thought to himself, inhaling deeply through his nose. There was no time to think about whether or not his training at the Garrison made him good enough of a fighter to pull this off, because as the sentry continued to make its way further down the hallway, Shiro started to hear more metallic footsteps echoing about the walls from a distance and that could only mean that there were more sentries up ahead.

        And he sure as hell didn’t want to end up having to deal with them; not if he could help it.

        "Go," he murmured, and bracing himself for the pain he would feel for doing this, he smacked his feet hard onto the ground and pushed down on his legs with all the strength he had to create friction with the floor, his weight succeeding in abruptly slowing the sentry down and causing it to stumble a bit.

        Screen visor flashing a bright shade of maroon, the sentry whipped its head around but wasn't quick enough to waylay the force that was Shiro's weight as he threw himself against the sentry's back with everything he had, teeth gritting and a grunt escaping him as the both of them tumbled messily to the ground.

        There was a dull clatter as the sentry hit the floor hard, its hold on Shiro's wrists faltering. Shiro wrenched his wrists free from its grasp, swiping quickly for the gun which fell heavily into his hands as he backed away and pointed it at the sentry, pulling what he thought was the trigger.

        Only...it must not have been what it was, because the gun didn't fire.

_Oh for the love of-_

        Shiro looked down at the gun and quickly tried to figure out why it wasn't working (with fingers fumbling with whatever part of it looked like it might get it to fire), when the sentry barreled into him suddenly and slammed him against the wall, Shiro lifting his head up and  crying out from the impact as the back of his head hit the wall.

        The gun fell from his hands and slid a ways across the floor with a clatter, and the sound of more metallic footsteps running towards them began to echo throughout the other end of the hallway.

        Shiro's heart caught in his throat as the sentry pressed its arm against his neck, and he began to frantically struggle against its weight as it kept him pinned against the wall, kicking with as much strength as he could muster. He aimed one of those kicks straight at the sentry's knees and managed to throw them off balance, pushing them off of him and diving for the gun.

        Rolling over he was able to aim a clean shot straight at its neck, and as electricity started to spark from the tear he'd made, the sentry began to twitch erratically a few times before collapsing on the ground.

 _You did it_ , he thought hastily, disbelief swimming throughout him. Chest heaving rapidly up and down, his eyes widened as they caught sight of the bright glow that was emitting from the eyes and armor of the sentries rushing after him from the opposite end of the hall.

        Shiro hesitated for a second.

        Should he fight or should he run?

        He had a gun, but... he barely even knew how to use it; moreover, there were way too many sentries for him to get an accurate count of, so that he might figure out what exactly he was up against. And with how dark and disorienting the hallway was because of its purplish hue, he couldn’t even see them all that well; the more he stood there and thought about it the closer they got.

        Whatever seconds he had left before they reached him were quickly running out.

        Before he could even make a decision though, several blasts shot straight at him when the sentries began firing their guns and he was forced to duck, dropping into a roll to avoid getting hit head on by them and as a result smacking immediately into the wall with his shoulder, which sent a sharp pain shooting up his arm and forced a gasp out of him. When one of the shots grazed his side he shut his eyes and winced, the flesh there stinging painfully as he scrambled to get back up before the sentries began shooting at him again.

        Okay, so that had definitely given him his answer: there were too many of them for him to fight right now; he needed to get someplace where he'd be able to grab some shelter and then maybe see if he could get rid of them all. He always considered himself significantly better at close quarters combat than he was at shooting, but if the situation called for it, he could fire a few good shots if he needed to.

        Matt had actually been the one with the sharper eyes, surprisingly (when he had his glasses on, of course), and a knack for aiming dead on wherever he set his target; yet despite that, he'd chosen to go the route of the science officer (Shiro really didn't have anything to complain about in regards to his decision though: it suited him).

        But all things considered at the moment, Shiro wished Matt had been brought along with him. His chances at successfully escaping seemed far more unlikely when he was on his own than if he at least had Matt with him.  

        But perhaps if he was actually able to get out of there alive, he would get a chance to find Matt and use those sharp eyes of his to help get them all out of this place and back home where they belonged.

        For now though, his own two eyes would have to do.

        Gripping his hand firmly over the wound on his side and applying pressure, he pushed himself up with his free hand and took off down towards the other end of the hallway, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed as they fixed on the darkness that awaited him there.

        Voices surrounded him with echoes that rang off the walls like whispers as he made his way down, and Shiro became vaguely aware that they belonged to the prisoners that were being kept in the cells behind the doors, a large majority of them shouting loudly as he passed them, but he couldn't make out what they were saying over the sounds of more blasts shooting past him -- he wanted to help them, he _wished_ he could help them, but Shiro could barely help himself -- had already made up his resolve, and so he had to keep going.

        When a massive blast of light shot past him that was far too close for comfort, Shiro tried to shift his body out of the way to avoid its impact but it merely moved him into the range of fire of the other blasts that were flying past. More than a few of the shots nicked him on his side when he wasn't able to move out of the way in time, but in spite of it Shiro just kept running, breaths heaving heavily from his chest while his lungs ached and his limbs pleaded for him to slow down, but all Shiro knew was that he couldn't stop.

        He needed to keep going; needed to get out of there. Needed to find Matt and Dr. Holt and get them all back home to Earth. Needed to return home to Keith -- _his Keith --_ like he'd promised him he would.

        Because Keith was waiting for him; and Shiro couldn't- **_No_.** Shiro _wouldn't_ break the promise he'd made to Keith. It was the only thing Keith had ever asked of him -- the only thing Keith had ever pleaded for him to do for as long as they'd know each other -- and it was why Shiro wasn't going to break the vow he'd made to Keith the night that they had shared everything together.

        He was going to get out of there; no matter what it took, no matter how much it hurt.  

        And so he continued to run with everything he had; pushing himself well past his breaking point because he knew that if he gave up, there was a good chance he'd likely never get to see Keith again, and Shiro would rather die than let that happen.  

        The hallway began to grow a little more brighter as the purple lighting that adorned its walls grew faintly lighter, indicating to Shiro that he was nearly to the end it, the doors on either side of him becoming more and more sparse -- from the muffled sound of the footsteps behind him and the decreasing accuracy of the shots that still fired past him, it seemed as though he had managed to pull ahead more than he might've thought.

        Apparently those sentries couldn't run as fast as he had assumed; they might've been designed to be strong, but as long as Shiro could outrun them he might actually have a chance to get away.

        Just the thought of that alone kept him at bay as relief coursed throughout him, even as his lungs burned when he finally reached the intersection that led into the very first hallway he'd seen when he'd woken up.

        Skidding to a rather ungraceful stop so that he could turn into the hallway, Shiro stumbled as he made the turn, his feet slipping out from underneath him.

        His limbs quaked with exertion and his face was drenched in a layer of cool sweat, but Shiro still had more in him -- _he could do this._

        Just as he was about to regain his balance, a stray shot grazed his cheek from behind and sent him collapsing in an attempt to avoid the other blasts that followed as the sentries drew nearer, his arms shaking with the strain as he struggled to keep himself up.

 _Crap!_ he thought, hands positioned already to push himself off the ground. _Don't let yourself get hit; get up, and run!_

        That was when he suddenly realized that someone had just moved in front of him, and eyes widening and legs scrambling he tried to get himself away from them but the figure was quicker than he was. Their hand immediately darted for his neck, grabbing his throat and lifting him up before slamming him roughly against the glass of the window.

        Stars seemed to flash across the insides of Shiro's eyes as the figure forced him harder against the glass, Shiro quickly clutching at the their hand as he tried to pull it away but their grip remained strong and tight, crushing his windpipes and stealing the air from him.

        He gasped, trying to kick his legs out, digging his foot against the armor that was wrapped securely around the figure's calves but it merely proved a feeble attempt as his legs refused to hold under duress, and, trembling, fell away uselessly and hit the back of the window with a dull thud.   

        He couldn't think of much else aside from how much pain was riding on the very fringe of his senses as he hung there by his neck, creeping further slowly like a poison that threatened to overwhelm his senses completely until everything became overloaded with it and sent his nerves on fire.

        As the figure squeezed their clawed hand even tighter around his throat, a cough was forced from Shiro while he desperately choked for air, eyes squeezing shut when his head began to feel light and the purple lights around him began to blur and swirl out of focus like a disorienting ripple effect.

        "N-no...l-let...go..." he choked faintly, arms shaking as his entire body began to feel weak. Everything around him remained blurred, the purple lights swirling faster around him while the figure that was holding him swam in and out of focus, their sneer the only thing that burned into the back of Shiro's mind.

        "No...."

        His voice died off in a croaky whisper, and as his hands fell his eyes closed of their own volition, everything fading into a darkness that enveloped him quickly like the falling of night.  

_No._

* * *

 

        "Keith, is that my Cherry Coke?"

        Shiro's right eyebrow lifted the slightest as he stared at Keith, the air conditioner from the vent behind him cooling his bare, wet, skin as he gripped the end of a towel to keep it held around his waist.

        Across him, sitting cross-legged on Shiro's sofa, Keith remained frozen, soda can tilted up against his mouth and purple eyes wide as they lingered guiltily on Shiro.

        "Um- no," he quipped automatically, biting his lip in a failed attempt to hide the smirk that was trying to curve around the corners of his mouth as he put the can down onto the side table in front of him. When he did that, Shiro noticed that the aluminum made a hollow, empty sound where it hit the table, familiar and indicative of an absence of sugary liquid that should've still been inside of it considering it had just been opened only a few minutes ago.

        At least; there _had_ still been some Cherry Coke left inside the can before Shiro had gone to take a shower. And Keith had definitely had a drink of his own before Shiro had left (Shiro had asked which soda he had wanted and he'd said Sprite) -- the empty Sprite can was right _there_ even, as Shiro stared at it from its spot right next to his own empty Cherry Coke can. Was it even finished, he wondered?

        Shiro's eyes narrowed at the thought, smile spreading across his mouth as he crossed his arms and leaned forward a bit, wet bangs strewn messily across his eyes.

        Keith, reading his movements easily (seeing as he had an unusual but otherwise pretty damn excellent knack for reading others), bolted upright immediately from his spot in the middle of the couch and stared fixedly at Shiro, poised and ready to take off as soon as Shiro made his move.

        Shiro couldn't keep his smile from growing bigger than it already was. The audacity Keith had sometimes; it was ridiculous… And he only displayed it the most around Shiro, but Shiro couldn't find it in him to get angry, or even the least bit annoyed.

        Because honestly? He found Keith's devil-may-care attitude so freaking endearing, and he had an idea that Keith knew as much; if the self-aware smirk he was currently wearing on his face didn't say as much itself.

 _Oh, yeah_ ; Keith definitely had to know.

        Because now -- even as Shiro was watching him -- he was criss-crossing his legs again and quirking one of his eyebrows a bit while he relaxed back into the sofa with a calm smile on his face; pretty much saying to Shiro he'd be able to get away from him if he tried to give chase. And that was even with the small handicap that having his legs crossed provided him with for when he would need to get up and bolt, because uncrossing them would take up a few seconds out of what little time he'd have to clear out before Shiro caught him (as trivial as it sounded; but with Shiro and Keith small details like this mattered, especially where challenges made between the two of them were concerned. They were both hella competitive in general; and with each other: even more so).

        And it was very evident to Shiro that Keith believed he stood a perfectly good chance against him, despite their size difference (which was hardly any difference whatsoever because Keith was ridiculously stubborn and awfully tenacious, no matter what his disadvantage). So Shiro had no doubt that his belief was entirely warranted, because Keith was an _extremely_ agile fighter (one of the most agile students he knew, really) and much more flexible than Shiro was in a fight. Just remembering how nimble Keith could be during their sparring matches was enough to get Shiro’s blood boiling...

        But that particular detail aside: _still_. Keith’s cheek really had no boundaries when he chose for it not to.

        Though frankly, Shiro honestly couldn't be more attracted to him as a result of it.

        He had fallen for Keith quite some time ago.

        And hard.

        Every time that the both of them fell into a friendly challenge like this, Shiro couldn't help but love the way it made his blood boil with excitement and inspired him with a determination to give his all against Keith, because he very well knew that Keith would do the same.

        And he loved that about Keith; loved seeing the fire that Shiro knew came from deep inside Keith’s heart burn through brightest whenever he was doing something that excited him.  

        In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to get worked up over; but it was only Keith who could bring this much enjoyment to Shiro's otherwise uneventful weekdays, and just the prospect of spending time together with Keith was always a pleasing thought in and of itself. All of Shiro's other friends were usually swamped with as much work as him (being either Lieutenants or teaching assistants themselves) and as such had just as many responsibilities to keep track of.

        It wasn't usually until the weekends that Shiro could really find time to relax a bit and take pleasure in the company of any of his other friends; but even at that, the things they did together weren’t exactly the same as what he did with Keith.

        Keith was a cadet. And while faced with quite a bit of work of his own from the classes he was taking, he typically had more free time to spare than Shiro did. And he usually chose to spend that free time with Shiro (whenever the two of them found even the smallest of time in the places where their schedules matched up to hang out with each other -- if they weren’t already sudying together when they didn’t have free time).

        And call him stupid, but just thinking that it was Keith's choice to be with him during his free time made Shiro ridiculously happy.

        He was probably already too far gone by this point, honestly, and Keith was probably aware of it, though he never said anything even if he was. Shiro only hoped that he wasn't the only one caught so helplessly by this net.

        But even if he was, because it was Keith who was the one casting it over him, he found that he didn't much mind how tangled up he got in its ropes.

        Keith was the best thing to have happened to him. And Shiro didn’t ever want to lose what the two of them had.

        And for that it was all worth it.

        Furrowing his own eyebrows to contrast Keith's, he removed the smaller towel he had hanging over one of his shoulders and passed it over his damp face, still smiling as he placed it casually atop the counter beside him and leaned his forearm on its marble surface.

        His stormy grey eyes met Keith's as the younger cadet continued to stare him down, defiance and amusement glowing brightly in his eyes and reminding Shiro of the soft warm glow of a firefly; then Keith leaned back and placed his arm casually atop the back frame of the couch, smirk still framing his mouth as his eyes fluttered closed for just a second.

        Shiro felt something snap inside of him.

        "Okay; that's it..!" he immediately shouted, unable to keep from saying it with a laugh; and while he stood there (just like he'd predicted) Keith was already scrambling over the other end of the couch just from his words alone, Shiro quickly chasing after him like a wolf racing after its prey.

        They darted over every inch of furniture that stood in their way as the chase led them about the entirety of Shiro's room, bumping into several things and becoming dangerously close to knocking over a hefty pile of books on Shiro’s side table as Keith aimed to get away from Shiro and keep him an equal distance behind him. On the other hand, Shiro's only focus was to corner Keith somehow; or lead him into a place he wouldn't be able maneuver through as well so then he'd be trapped and Shiro would be able to grab him.

        To Keith's well-deserved credit, despite having been in Shiro's room only two or three times in total, he was managing his way around the obstacles with an ease that would've had anyone else assuming that the place was actually his; honestly, Shiro was constantly reminded of a cat whenever Keith moved around like that -- it was ridiculous. But Shiro just knew Keith’s mobility to be a part of his incredibly adaptive nature, and it only ensured that the chase would be well won whenever one of them finally achieved their goal.

        Just as they were about to round the counter in Shiro's kitchen area for the third time, Shiro heard an audible wheeze over from Keith's end when he bumped into the table behind him and stumbled, laughing breathlessly but maintaining the (albeit shorter) distance between them as he settled securely behind his end of the counter.

        Shiro took the pause in their chase with no small amount of gratitude and used the opportunity to regain his composure, laughing breathlessly as he leaned an arm against the wall to help him breathe easier. As he brushed his bangs back out of his face, he noticed Keith doing something with his hands behind his back, but when he noticed Shiro looking, he stopped moving and relaxed before settling into a smirk. Shiro smirked back, raising his eyebrow again and narrowing his eyes slyly.

 _That punk_.

        For as much as he was looking at Shiro while he waited for the former graduate to make his move, Shiro knew that Keith's eyes were set on a different goal entirely -- that goal being Shiro's bathroom, which, if Keith was able to reach it, he'd be able to use as a safe room and if he managed to lock it before Shiro could get to him, would pretty much declare him the winner because there was no way he’d let Shiro in until he admitted defeat. Because Shiro remembered that he had left some of his belongings in there when he’d gone in to take a shower, and he was going to need them eventually for whenever he headed out again (which would be later that evening actually because he had the Kerberos seminar to attend and he wasn’t going to be able to get there if he didn’t have his keys).

        But even if there was a way for him to give in and get his stuff back if that was what ended up happening, there was no way in hell that Shiro was going to let Keith win (not easily at least, if it _had_ to happen). Not that he was particularly prideful, it was just... Keith seemed to be the only one able to rile him up so much. More so than Shiro had even thought was possible for him (and this realization coming soon after he started to believe that he knew himself better than anyone else did, and because of it had assumed Keith wouldn’t be able to get to him like this).   

        To lose to Keith when he looked so smug was something Shiro had no desire to do. So he realized he'd have to play it smart if he ever hoped to win, because it was quite likely that Keith had some tricks up his sleeve as well (as he usually did).

        Gazing at Keith with equal parts amusement and fondness, a corner of Shiro's mouth curved as he ran his tongue across his lips slowly, closing his eyes halfway and humming softly as he purposely pressed his legs up against the counter. With Keith's eyes on him, his hand wrapped subtly around the smaller towel he'd deposited on the counter earlier, slipping it slowly behind his back so that Keith wouldn't see it. To make sure that he still held Keith's attention, he let the towel wrapped around his waist slip a bit, just enough so that the line of his left hip was showing.

        Alright; yes, he really was playing the seduction card.

        But really, in his defense: Keith was no stranger to that game whatsoever (he'd managed to get his way more often than not with Shiro the first few times he'd tried it, and Shiro hadn't known exactly what it was that he had been doing so it had worked -- much to his severe embarrassment). Keith was always so damn subtle whenever he purposely flirted with someone so that it was usually hard to tell whether or not he was doing it on purpose or just wasn’t aware of it himself (until he started to take things way out of hand of course, and once he started cracking up the first time that was when Shiro knew he’d been playing with him).

        But Keith never took it too far. Shiro had learned later on that Keith was careful not to do anything so as to hurt the person he was teasing and was particularly adamant never to mess around like that with someone he didn't truly care about (or wasn’t into them in that way) -- unless of course it was to his benefit to do so. That in itself led Shiro to believe that it hadn’t been the first time Keith had used that play on someone, and while that worried him a bit more than anything else did, he hadn’t tried to bother and ask him about because there were so many things Keith kept to himself; so many more things about him that Shiro had absolutely no clue about but that Keith never mentioned.

        It was one of the things honestly that had drawn him so much to Keith, but Shiro trusted that when the time came, Keith would talk about himself more, so he decided not to push him.

        All other things considered -- aside from that, though -- Keith and Shiro had played this game quite a bit ever since they'd agreed to allow themselves to try and see what it would be like to be something more than the close friends they'd become.

        That in itself had been… a very difficult hurdle to overcome, mostly on Shiro's part. But it was a choice they’d both wanted, so Shiro had no problem whatsoever playing the seduction card in his own room.

        Though from the looks of it, it appeared that Keith had never expected Shiro to be the one to pull it at that moment, because his face became flustered and his hands fumbled behind him as he almost dropped whatever it was he was holding. Shiro couldn't help but smile brightly as he watched Keith flush a slight red, his own hand running through his wet hair again as he puffed out a heavy breath.

        “You okay, Keith?” he teased, stretching his back a bit while his arm was lifted and pushing his chest out a bit in the process. Keith seemed almost like he was determinedly trying to keep his eyes on Shiro's face, a bright pink flush spread about his cheeks as he stood rigid right where he stood.

        Shiro beamed at him slyly, and while he did that nonchalantly tossed the small towel he was holding behind his back towards the direction of the bathroom behind him, fully aware that he'd had Keith too distracted to notice -- he just hoped it had landed more or less where he wanted it to land.

        “I'm on top of the moon, actually,” Keith finally answered, regaining some of his cheek as his shoulder frame relaxed again and a soft smile curved about his lips. _God he looked so beautiful when he smiled..._ His eyes burned brightly as they locked onto Shiro's, Shiro half certain his breath was so damn close to getting stolen away from him just from the sight alone. He hardly had any breath left as it was.

        “Really?” he laughed breathlessly. Keith’s smile turned into a toothy grin that nearly swept Shiro’s feet out from underneath him.

        Shit; how was this backfiring on to _him?_

        “Yeah; The Garrison's Golden Boy isn't fast enough to catch up to me,” Keith answered amidst Shiro’s mini crisis.

        Shiro narrowed his eyes and darted from his side of the counter with the intent to smother his little brat. Keith immediately withdrew from his end with the reflexes of a fox and laughing,  just barely managed to skid around its edge with no amount of grace whatsoever.

        “ _Oh, really?!_ ” Shiro shouted out as he chased after him, a laugh bursting free from his chest.

        Just then, he was forced to skid to a halt in order to catch something that Keith threw at him, barely managing to keep it from hitting him square in the face as the motion caused him to flinch backwards.

        “Wh-?!? Hey! _That's-!”_ Another laugh slipped from his throat like a ripple of silver as the soda can hit the palm of his hand dead center. “ _Keith, that's cheating!_ ”

        “A good strategist always knows how to make use of whatever’s around him!” Keith shouted back at him.

 _Damn it;_ Shiro had taught him that…!

        Shaking his head, he put the soda can down on the counter quickly before he tried to cut Keith off from the other end. Keith easily out maneuvered him, leaping out of the way with another hearty laugh of his own before heading straight for the bathroom, black hair dancing around his face as he made the abrupt turn that would set him right in front of its doorway.

        But just as he stepped to make it through the turn, his foot landed on the towel that Shiro had purposely dropped on the floor and his leg slipped out from underneath him, causing his body to fall forward. Eyes widening, he tried to reach out and grab onto something.

        “ _Wha-?!_ ”

        Shiro wasted no time in taking the chance he was given, pushing himself further until he was right behind Keith.

        “Got'cha!!” he cried out with a laugh as he caught up to him just in time to grab Keith before he fell, wrapping both of his arms around the younger male's warm stomach and lifting him up. Keith immediately busted out laughing, unable to push Shiro's arms away with his hands, and so he lifted his legs up and tried kicking out in an attempt to throw them both off balance.

        “Holy, crap, _Shiro!_ That's…cheating!” he laughed breathlessly when Shiro buried his face against the back of his neck and smiled into Keith's warm skin, hands grasping at the cotton fabric of Keith's black tee while he hugged him tightly to hold him still. It sent a shiver down the back of Keith's spine when he felt the wetness from Shiro's hair begin to drip down the back of his neck, and he squirmed uncomfortably, but was still unable to stop the laughs that erupted warmly from his throat.

        “ _Shiro!_ Your hair’s wet!!”

        He winced just a little when Shiro swung him around and threw him down onto the couch, climbing over him promptly and pinning him between both of his arms so that he couldn't try and run off. A soft and pleasant hum rumbled from deep within Shiro's chest as he bent his arms and laid his upper body carefully on top of Keith’s, resting his chin atop his hands where they were placed just over Keith's chest, his breath tickling Keith’s skin softly with its gentle warmth.  

        “I know,” he answered with a smile, and when Keith began to squirm he pushed himself up again slightly and leaned over so that he could press a gentle kiss to the tip of Keith's nose, Keith's eyes squeezing shut as the wet hair from Shiro's bangs tickled his face.

        "Keith..." Shiro breathed softly, his face pressing against Keith’s.

        When he fell back down his body settled back against Keith's like the both of them were both a perfect fit, their warmth mingling comfortably. He wrapped one of his arms around Keith's waist as he hugged him and rested his head on top of Keith's shoulder, turning his face to the side and closing his eyes while Keith finally stopped moving beneath him and relaxed into Shiro's embrace.

        A comfortable silence blanketed them as they remained like that for a little while, a few droplets of water dripping from Shiro's hair. The warmth and humidity that was still emanating from his damp skin and his towel began to soak into Keith's clothing, warming his own skin as well as the spots where the both of their bare skin touched together, tingling a bit.

        Keith moved his head closer to Shiro's so that their faces were pressed together again, and Shiro smiled a little to feel that Keith's face felt a little warmer than usual. His voice even sounded softer to Shiro's ears as he spoke quietly, one of his hands grasping helplessly at Shiro's back before moving down to his hips and grabbing at the towel with a slight tremor to them.

        "Shiro..."

        Shiro kept his eyes closed, sinking deeper into the comfortable bubble of warmth they'd created by the meshing of both of their body heats, and he hummed softly to let Keith know that he was listening, his thumb stroking absent-mindedly against Keith's side, causing him to tense a bit but relax quickly afterwards.

        "Shiro… we can't… What if Alejandro comes in...?"

        Shiro's eyes finally fluttered open when he detected the slight uncertainty that was painted in Keith's voice, and he realized that Keith was right.

        If anyone saw them…

        He lifted his head up a bit and looked at Keith, frowning fretfully as he reached a hand back to scratch his head uncertainly.

        Keith was right.

        He knew that. _Keith_ knew that -- they both did.

        They'd both agreed to try a different kind of relationship together but that didn't mean that they wouldn't get in trouble if it was found out that they were...well, essentially dating.

        Shiro had been skeptical at first, knowing his place as a lieutenant of superior rank, but… he'd made his choice already.

        He wanted to be with Keith.

        But that also meant they had to be extremely careful when they were around one another, especially in public, lest someone figure out that they were together. However, while one of Shiro's friends was supposed to be coming over in a few minutes, Shiro didn't think it meant that the two of them exactly had to disregard whatever few minutes they had left together -- they just had to be careful not to make Alejandro suspicious.

        And Shiro did feel guilty about what they were doing; of course he did. He always had before, and probably still would keep feeling guilty for as long as Keith remained a cadet under his own rank, but like he needed to keep reminding himself: he'd made his choice, and so he needed to stop letting the guilt get to him.

        After all, Bennett (who was literally Shiro's closest friend apart from Alejandro) had always told him that he worried too much, so he made a mental note to himself to stop worrying wherever his decision about Keith was concerned.

        It had been made already, and he needed to stand by his choice -- not that it was particularly a problem…

_He wanted this._

        "Shiro?"     

        His attention was grounded back to the present when Keith called out to him, and Shiro saw that Keith was looking up at him with a bit of a concerned expression (though the uncertainty from before was still lingering in his violet eyes).

        Great; now he'd just made Keith worry about him. With a reassuring smile he propped himself up a bit with his arms and lifted his head up to the ceiling.

        "Lock door," he ordered clearly, and the electronic panel located beside the door to his room flashed a neon orange before the lock on the door was initiated.

        Keith looked at him with slight confusion, one of his eyebrows raised, but then when he finally guessed what Shiro's line of thinking probably was, a smirk spread across his lips. Shiro met his expression with a soft smile of his own.

        "Just some safety precautions," he explained gently, grabbing one of his pillows from the other side of the couch and fluffing it up so that Keith could use it. When he tossed it over to Keith, Keith caught it and squished it in his hands. "Alejandro's polite enough to knock anyway,” Shiro continued. “Bennett's the one we're gonna need to worry about. The concept of privacy doesn't have a definition in his book whatsoever."

        Keith snorted as he continued to wear his smirk, sitting up and spreading his legs apart so Shiro could shuffle closer to him a bit. Arms wrapping around the cushion, he rested his chin on top of it as he squeezed it, watching as Shiro glanced back at the far end of the wall to check his clock for the time. Turning back to Keith, he tightened the towel he had wrapped around his waist and smiled at him.

        “This doesn't bother you, does it?” he asked. “Because if it does, I can put some clothes on-”

        “Just come here…!” Keith laughed, grabbing a hold of Shiro's arm and pulling him onto his lap. Shiro landed on top of him with a muffled ‘ _oomph!_ ’ of surprise, face turning red as Keith wrapped his legs around him. “We don't have that much time, anyway. You can just change once Alejandro gets here.”

        “And what if that makes him suspicious?” Shiro asked carefully, his gaze uncertain; Keith looked at him, the silence in the air filled by nothing else but the sound of their breathing as the seconds slipped by.

        “I don't know...will it?” he asked softly, looking to Shiro for the answer.

        Shiro glanced upwards at the ceiling for a few seconds, chewing on his lower lip as he thought about the question. Finally, he spoke.

        “No…” he answered slowly, a smile relaxing over the uncertain frown that had formed  on his face as his hand grabbed a hold of Keith's. “No. Alejandro tends not to read into things too much unless they're flat out obvious. We should be fine as long as we act natural and don't try to pull anything too suspicious by him.”

        Keith let out an impatient but nonetheless grateful huff of air, smiling at the same time as he tugged at the towel around Shiro's waist to get him to come closer.

        “Well? Come on then! Time's wasting..!”

        A breathless laugh escaped Shiro as he fell into Keith's arms, Keith wheezing a bit from the sudden added weight.

        A somewhat immeasurable happiness spread throughout Shiro as Keith's arms wrapped around his back, his eyes closing and his smile lingering as he settled into the warmth that surrounded him and realized suddenly that at that moment, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

        With eyes still closed he reached his hand out and searched for Keith's before finding it somewhere above him, grabbing it so he could intertwine their fingers together.

        He felt Keith squeezing his hand once their fingers fell into place and immediately began to relax, the tenser areas of his body loosening up and revealing to him their unnoticed stress. Similar to the way most people were often never aware of their breathing until they consciously thought about it or had their attention purposely drawn to it, Shiro hadn't noticed just how much tension he'd been carrying throughout his entire body until the moment Keith embraced him in his arms.

        It wasn't until he felt himself practically melting into Keith's comfortable bubble of warmth that he realized exactly how much he had needlessly been overworking almost every part of his body, and it felt so good to finally feel himself loosen up and relax once for a change.

        Honestly, it was probably the first time in a long while (at least, as far back as Shiro could remember) that he had ever allowed himself to completely relax and let his guard down when in close proximity to another person. Bennett was one of the few others Shiro found himself able to somewhat relax around, as the two of them had been close friends since they'd started at the Garrison.

        But what Shiro felt around Bennett and what he felt around Keith was different in and of itself, in that the two weren't quite the same: the way that Shiro felt when he was with Bennett as opposed to Keith just... felt different.

        Bennett was practically family to Shiro, and perhaps that was why his comforting warmth felt a different kind from Keith's. For a while there, Shiro had begun to consider Keith somewhat similar to family, but what he'd felt for Keith had eventually gone past the sense of familial bonds.

        Keith's warmth burned a little brighter, lingered a little longer on Shiro's skin, and sometimes on occasion had the capability of sending shivers up his spine with just a simple brush from Keith's hand or arm. And Shiro always found himself yearning for more; in the absence of its presence for an extended period of time, Shiro found himself actively seeking out ways in which he could feel the tender touch of Keith's warmth again, even if just by accident.

        That was what Keith's presence was to him: a familiar embrace of comfort that meant that the one person he'd come to learn more and more about (and had eventually grown to love in the process) was right there by his side if he ever needed him.

        And he always would be, until such a time as Keith himself decided to leave -- in which Shiro wouldn't try to stop him.

        But for now, if Shiro had to explain Keith's relationship to him in as simple a way as he possibly could, then all he could say was that Keith felt like home. Not in the sense that he reminded Shiro of his old home back in Japan, or even his new one once his family moved over to America -- no, that wasn't it.

        Keith was like a place where Shiro could take down all his barriers and be entirely vulnerable -- just... something about him made Shiro feel safe, in exactly the same way that Shiro's home and family did (as only they could, until Keith came along).

        And perhaps it sounded awfully irrational, he realized, considering the Garrison had become his new home for the past five years he'd studied and trained there; but with Keith, Shiro was able to completely fall apart and open himself up in a completely different way than he could with most of the others around him.

        He'd already shared a large portion of his vulnerabilities with Keith, and of the times he had, he only wished Keith hadn't had to see him that way; if only because Shiro didn't like burdening the others around him with his issues if he was able to help it.

        But Keith hadn't cared; hadn't judged him for his weakness in those moments that went against the expectations that most others held of the Garrison's Golden Boy.

        Keith didn't care. He had been there for Shiro, because Shiro had been there for him. And perhaps it went even deeper than that, though Shiro didn't feel he needed to look there just yet; he was just fine with leaving it as it was. Keith had opened himself up to him countless times already, despite his initial defensiveness when Shiro had first tried to approach him -- had allowed Shiro to touch the deepest and most intimate parts of his heart, just as Shiro was now unafraid and unhesitant to let him do the same. Sometimes he thought he even wanted Keith to touch his heart; maybe because he already had?

        Through all the time that the two of them had shared together -- the slight tension at first, the laughs, the stolen moments and emotional obstacles they'd managed to get over (not by themselves but together); even the stupid acts of defiance and mischief they'd end up getting themselves into to prove each other wrong during countless instances -- everything had blended and tied together and eventually panned out to this: a bond that Shiro knew he never wanted to let go of, even if it meant that holding onto it might end up hurting them both.

        He hadn't asked for anything of this magnitude or shape before. For the entire time since he'd enlisted at the Garrison, Shiro had never wanted or wished for a relationship like this. At first he'd thought it was because he had already committed himself to his duties as a lieutenant and as a pilot, but that wasn't it.

        Deep inside, his soul had always longed to feel the warmth of another. He'd just never known who that 'other' was until Keith came along.

        And now that Shiro had this, he wasn't sure that he wanted to let it go.

 _So this is what it feels like to love someone else,_ he realized in his head, as his eyes fluttered open and he looked up to see Keith laying his head against the pillow with his eyes closed, a completely peaceful expression on his face as their hands remained interlaced.

_You're so beautiful, Keith…_

        A tender smile passed over his face, and he squeezed Keith's hand, Keith's eyes fluttering open at the touch and his violet irises meeting Shiro's.

        “I think I'm falling more in love with you everyday, Keith,” Shiro admitted sheepishly, hiding his mouth behind his arm as a pink flush tinged his cheeks.

        He didn't see any point in hiding it any longer; embarrassing as it was to say, it was true. Shiro never liked keeping his feelings hidden for very long anyways, unless he had good reason to, because the weight from holding onto them alone was one of his least favorite things to carry and honestly he was pretty bad at hiding things like that. Keith would’ve bound to have figured it out eventually.

        As it were, his choice to vocalize his growing feelings appeared to pay off, because the very next moment Shiro felt his heart skipping a beat when Keith returned his smile in full and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead, Shiro's eyes squeezing shut as Keith's fingertips brushed back the hair that made up Shiro's bangs so that he could kiss him easier there.

        Pulling away, Keith's hand lingered for a second at the base of Shiro's forehead, and Shiro shivered a bit when Keith traced his thumb down the line of his brow, placing his finger over Shiro's eyebrow and stroking it gently.

        “Takashi…” his voice murmured through softly parted lips, and his eyelashes seemed to flutter with a delicateness as his face leaned in closer.

        When Keith delicately shifted his weight underneath him, Shiro realized just how close together they were pressed and he felt his entire face burn red when something occurred to him just then, his heart pounding erratically in his chest.

        He was sure Keith could probably feel it, but it didn't deter him from what was right in front of him. He wanted this… _God, he wanted this so badly_ …

        Keith's eyes drifted closed while his hand caressed the side of Shiro's face, their hearts beating out of rhythm against their chests and their quiet breaths ghosting over each other's faces, kissing each other’s skin with a gentle warmth.

        What was probably mere seconds seemed like minutes to Shiro as Keith's eyes darted open and met his, raw emotion swirling deep within them; emotion that Keith was only allowing Shiro to see in that moment. And as Shiro was caught by his gaze, he suddenly felt as though he was being drawn further and further in, his own body inching ever so closer as Keith's eyes beckoned him with open invitation.  

        A soft breath of air escaped him as Keith's legs tightened even more around his torso, his eyes fluttering in reaction as he became vaguely aware of the way his lower regions were feeling at the moment, growing hotter with every second that passed. But then his attention was once again captured as Keith's fingertips threaded their way into his hair again, Keith grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging him even closer to him.

        Shiro felt like he could do nothing else but follow Keith's direction, his hands gripping at the couch beneath him and arms pushing him up so that his face was hanging right over Keith's, a pink flush spread well throughout his face as he stared down with a slight breathlessness to him.

        "Kiss me," Keith murmured just as breathlessly, his eyes searching Shiro's hopefully. Shiro hesitated. Guilt once again pulled at his heartstrings.

 _No,_ he thought to himself, the muscles in his arms straining as he lowered himself closer to Keith. When he did that, their hair mingled together and their noses were mere centimeters away from brushing against one another. _I want this. I want_ _him_.

        And so with plenty of fervor, he gladly carried out Keith's request, their lips mashing together automatically and their mouths pliant to each other's touch, breathy gasps mingling together as the heat between them became overwhelming. Keith no longer seemed to care that the bottom of his shirt had hitched up considerably past his stomach, allowing both his and Shiro's skin to stick together as they pressed against each other feverishly.

        A moan rumbled deep within Shiro's chest as Keith's warm tongue curled around his own, Keith's fingertips digging into the skin of Shiro's back as he clung onto Shiro like he was his lifeline.

        As his lower regions began to grow hot once again though, Shiro was forced to pull away from the kiss for a little while, eyes squeezed shut and mouth pulled in a tight, embarrassed line.

_Fuck, he wanted this. He wanted this so badly, he wished he could…_

        Eyes fluttering open, he composed himself with a brief inhale and managed a flustered smile.

        "Sorry, I- ah, _um…_ I don't think I'll be able to hold back if we keep going…"

        He fumbled with his words, face burning redder by the second, and Keith couldn't keep in the loud laugh that burst from his chest -- _and God, did Shiro love the way he sounded when he laughed._  

        "Hey, you don't have to apologize," Keith answered with the fondest of grins, his hand combing fondly through Shiro's bangs again. Shiro's entire attention was held by him in that moment, and his cheeks flushed a little warmer when Keith pulled at his arm so that he was laying on top of him again, that familiar warmth that Shiro was so fond of embracing him comfortably once again. "Alejandro should be here soon, remember? We can just lay down like this for at least a little longer; try to take it easy until he gets here."

        A small laugh pushed its way from Shiro's chest.

        "That was our plan at first, though, wasn't it?"

        An amused smile spread across Keith's lips, and his fingers continued to thread through Shiro's bangs. The loving expression he seemed to be wearing on his face sent dozens of butterflies through Shiro's stomach, and they fluttered about energetically without a care whatsoever.

        "Plans change; can't be helped for now," Keith answered, his hand falling backwards onto the pillow that was propped underneath his head. "I know that I'll take whatever time I can get with you, though."

        Shiro smiled back at him brightly, and he lifted up his upper body once more so that Keith was underneath him again, the younger cadet's smile growing and his hands grabbing onto either side of Shiro's hips.

        Shiro had to admit -- it was hard as hell to resist the temptation of falling back into the dazzling heat that had drawn him in before -- Keith never looked so tempting -- but he understood their situation, and therefore pushed his desires as far from his mind as he possibly could.

        There was, however, always a compromise so that he didn't feel like he was leaving entirely empty-handed.

        "One more kiss?" he asked with a grin.

        Keith laughed Shiro's favorite laugh, and ran his hands up Shiro's chest until he found his arms and held onto them firmly.

        "Yes sir," he answered, and his smile blended with Shiro's as their lips met.

        Keith’s lips were soft and warm just like before, their breaths blending into a singular heat as their hands roamed freely and grabbed onto wherever they could find a place to hold onto, but as Shiro reached out his hand to brush Keith's face again, a bright light suddenly began to sear from all around them, Shiro's eyes squeezing shut automatically. It was only after he had closed them that he realized that Keith’s warmth had suddenly began to fade from his peripheral. He tried desperately to open his eyes and search for Keith, but he was prevented from doing so because the bright light that was surrounding him was too strong, and every time he tried opening his eyes to see where he was or what was going on, they began to water.

        But Keith's warmth was definitely fading; and with its disappearance, fear began to blossom in Shiro's breast like liquefied color bleeding thickly into crystal clear water.

        " _Keith...!_ Wait-!"

        His voice choked out of his throat in a weak gasp as he reached out for the comforting warmth he had felt only moments ago, but as his hand landed he felt nothing but cold, hard, metal; the emptiness and unnaturalness of the surface both confusing and… _scaring_ him.

        " _ **Keith!!!** "_

        Desperation flared within him with an ache as he tried to open his eyes and search for Keith, but the light merely blazed brighter, burning into his retinas and engraving a series of painful afterimages into his memory that lingered long after he'd shut his eyes from the discomfort.

        Everything was beginning to feel too overwhelming; he could feel his heart thudding rapidly in his chest, the scenery of the dream that enveloped him bleeding into reality like the blurring of two very different lines while dismay settled in the pit of his stomach.

        Strange voices echoed about the white walls that were melting away all around him as he laid still, fading in and out of sound alongside everything else as the bright colors of the room bled away in blurs and blends of colorlessness – until that same colorlessness suddenly started to adopt the vibrancy of a single hue, and the purple color that he could barely even see caused Shiro's stomach to lurch uncomfortably, as though it had triggered some unknown fear within him that he couldn't yet understand. Its mask of foreign intensity unsettled him, at the same time that the familiarity it wore on its face told him not to trust it.

        But he still didn’t know _why that was_. And the pool of questions he had in his head continued to swirl around incessantly, feeding the flame of his fear.  

        What was going on? Where was Keith?

        Was he dreaming?

        If he was able to wonder about that, then did it mean he was still caught in whatever reality was wrapped around him right now? How could reality be this terrifying?

        There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many answers he needed to know as confusion continued to swirl within him like a thick poison, fear injecting itself into every one of his muscles and numbing his body like a hunter getting ready to devour its prey.

        Without thinking to – without meaning to – his voice uttered forth -- for the third time -- the name slipped from him without so much as a single command on his part as it carried through the empty room in a whimper.

        “Keith, _please._ ”

        And this time, finally, his plea didn’t remain unanswered.

        A tender hand touched his forehead delicately, and as Shiro’s eyes shut in response and the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood on end, he felt the hand brushing his bangs away lightly from his eyes. The voices that surrounded him sharpened suddenly into reason and the warmth from the person’s touch soaked softly into his skin like a dim ray of sunlight, everything that seemed to be running a mile a minute within his head suddenly slowing to a much calmer pace so that he could finally gain control over his thoughts again.

        His frame shivered ever so slightly when the hand slipped tenderly between the roots of his bangs and combed them back, and Shiro found himself opening his eyes in response to the touch, lips parting as his eyes squinted desperately in the bright light that remained above him, scattering about loosely as though everything around him was being looked at through a blurred filter.

        The face of the person leaned over him remained in the shadows as the light above their head continued flare as brightly as ever. But Shiro had calmed some, his heart rate returning back to its normal pace now that he knew he wasn’t alone anymore. 

        “Keith…?” he breathed tiredly with a faint slur, his chest heaving up and down wearily.

        _Is that you? What’s going on…?_

        The figure seemed to pause in their movements when Shiro's voice reached their ears, and a little bit of confusion resumed in the depths of Shiro's heart when the muffled voice that came from their mouth sounded nothing like Keith's. It was much deeper, and sounded strange...

        As his eyebrows furrowed, the figure's head turned slightly to the side while another voice from somewhere nearby answered them, and as Shiro listened and was able to make sense out of some of the words that were being spoken, the far edges of everything that he saw before him finally began to sharpen, his entire body going into a state of alertness in recognition of the unfamiliarity that surrounded him.

        The figure directly next to him tilted their head downwards, their face still hidden in the shadows as they worked on something next to Shiro's right arm; When Shiro felt a pressure beginning to lessen around his wrist that he hadn't even noticed before, he realized that he was strapped down to the surface he was laying on, and the thought alone rekindled in an instant the blazing fear that had left its scorch marks inside of him only a few minutes ago.

        His muscles began to tense again, but still he found that he couldn't move -- he could think a little clearer than he had been able to before -- but still, his thoughts still seemed unable to connect to whatever conclusion they were reaching for, because something in the back of his mind felt like it was trying to tell him something -- only he couldn't hear its voice just yet. And it was because of this that Shiro didn't know whether or not he should be entirely afraid, because even as he thought about it, the fear that was digging its way inside his heart just then obviously didn't seem like it was willing to wait for his decision on the matter.

        Unsure more than anything else of what he should do, Shiro tried to regain control over the arm that the person suddenly grabbed a hold of, but all his body managed to reciprocate from the attempt was a weak twitch in some of his fingers as the person's clawed hand tightened around his wrist and pushed up his sleeve, the cold air in the room kissing his naked skin with its lifeless lips.

        Shiro realized then that he was far weaker than he actually may have felt, and so he resigned himself to watching the person as best as he could through the dark shadow that covered their faces as his heartbeat pounded wildly in his chest, the nerves in his right arm blaring suddenly to life when something long and sharp pierced him there, carrying with it a stinging pain that caused him to wince.

        And it was then, in that small twinge of pain, that everything came flooding back at last, the memories pressing their touch collectively upon Shiro's mind like a long awaited wave crashing upon a beach of desperate and yearning sand that expectantly embraced its waters.

        Just like it had happened when Shiro first woke up after being captured, the memories flitted before his mind like fluttering of pages as his brain caught him up to speed on everything that he'd forgotten in the dream that had embraced him: the final moments in that darkened, purplish hallway with the large windows and the cells with small openings on their doors; the malicious sneer of the figure that had pinned him against the wall, with those piercing purple eyes that glowed in the darkness and were seemingly able to penetrate into his very soul; everything ebbed back to him gently like a receding flood.

        And that was when Shiro realized. 

        Realized that somewhere along the way he'd woken up from the dream he'd been having; that in the dream itself he had been remembering a memory he'd shared with Keith just a little over a year and a half ago, and somehow it had still played out exactly the way he remembered it doing the day it occurred. Up until something woke him partially up from it, and for a little while his dream actually blended into reality.

        But now he remembered everything.

        And due to it all, Keith's absence never felt as intense to him as it felt just then, because Shiro felt as though he'd only just touched him; his warmth in that dream felt as tangible as the touch of the alien whose features were now strikingly visible underneath the light they had finally removed out of the way of Shiro's eyes, a mask covering their mouth as they deposited a blood-filled syringe on the metal table next to Shiro and typed some figures into the translucent keyboard that hovered some ways above a nearby surface.

        An emptiness ached within Shiro that made him feel like a forest burned of all its flora. The delicate and gentle warmth that had once been Keith's presence had slowly began extinguishing day by day since the moment Shiro first left for the Kerberos mission, and now it was little more than a pale, weakened flame without Keith's presence to keep it lit.

        And now, more than ever, Shiro was terrified of losing it. As the aliens around him moved around the room and ignored him for the time being, Shiro was afraid of being left alone. Because he realized now -- somehow, the truth had hit him like a gunshot to the heart -- there was no getting out of this. The clear-intentioned look in the aliens' eyes that indicated what they intended to do to him; the sluggish stupor that hung all over his body and prevented him from moving any limb of his body (how was he going to be able to escape, even if he tried?); everything pointed to that single reality.

        And all the while that it sunk in, the familiar reassurance of Keith's warmth was already starting to flicker out, and Shiro felt himself fearing the fall that would inevitably occur once it finally died out completely; once he realized that he just lost the only thing he had left to hold onto.

        But before that could happen, the shadow of the alien closest to him blocked the light in the room from Shiro's eyes as they leaned over him once again, and as they did that a familiar image flitted once again across the expanse of his mind while the view of the room around him faded once again into an old memory and spared him the sight of a place that had now become a prison to him.

        It was the very first night that Shiro and Keith had shared their warmth together in an embrace that was more than just a simple touch; the first time they went all the way; the evening before the day of the Kerberos launch.

        Shiro was lying nestled between a mess of scattered sheets and covers, his fingertips combing gently through Keith's soft strands of hair as he smiled fondly at him with the one smile that only ever came out when he was with Keith. He knew at the time that was it was probably going to be the last time in a long while that he would feel its motion curving about his lips. Because once the sun came up, he was going to have to leave.

        But that wasn't until a little later.

        Right now they still had a few hours left together, and so Shiro wasn't going to waste their time thinking about when he would finally have to leave.

        Right now was for nothing else but them, and with Keith there in Shiro's arms -- laying curled up on top of him and with part of the bed sheet covering his bare shoulders -- Shiro felt like in that moment he had everything he could ever want in life.

        Everything else just suddenly seemed entirely pointless in comparison to the warmth that he held in his arms -- compared to Keith.

        And it was that thought alone that was making it hurt even more to leave, because Keith wasn't going to be with Shiro on the Kerberos mission -- he couldn't come; that just wasn't how things could be, even though Shiro really wished it could happen that way. He thought he'd already run himself through the painful process that was accepting the pain that would always linger within him once the two of them were separated.  

        But apparently it was always going to hurt this much. Especially more so now that Keith was there in his arms. And again, Shiro couldn't help but think how strange it was that he had found someone he could care about as much as he cared about Keith, because he hadn't been looking for love. And neither had Keith, for that matter. Yet somewhere along the way the two of them had found their homes in each other. Keith had told him as much, and it didn't take Shiro too long after that to realize that it was the exact same way for him.

        As yet another fond smiled traced its path across his lips at that thought alone, Shiro stilled the methodic movement of his left hand for a little while when Keith suddenly stirred, the younger male's thigh twitching just the slightest before his entire frame settled more comfortably against the embrace of Shiro's other arm; despite whatever movement occurred between the two of them, their entwined right hands remained clutched in each other's grasps.

        A few peaceful seconds passed with the two of them like that, the electronic alarm clock on Shiro's bedside table filling the air with the sound of the gentle beeps it usually made as it counted the passing seconds -- seconds into minutes, minutes into hours; every measurement of time they had together slipping away as dawn drew ever nearer -- until finally the countdown to their separation was interrupted by the sound of Keith's voice drifting over the monotonous tempo of the alarm clock, softer and filled with more emotion that Shiro had ever heard in it before.

        "Shiro....what are you thinking?" Keith asked, and he remained where he was laying with the top of his head to Shiro's chest, apparently listening to the beating of his heart, because when Shiro shifted a little to look at him better, Keith made sure his head remained right over the center of Shiro's chest so that he could still hear the soothing _ba-thump_ of his individual heartbeats.

        It helped to calm him.

        Pulling his fingers delicately away from Keith's hair, Shiro used his free hand to run it through his own bangs as he looked up at the ceiling and collected his thoughts so he could answer.

        It didn't take long to sum up everything that he was feeling in a simple string of a few words, but even then, the feeling itself was nowhere near being simple.

        "I'm thinking about how much I love you; and how, even when I'm up there, I'll miss you more than anything else in the world," he said, letting his head fall gently to the side so that he could see a little bit of Keith's face. His eyes widened just the slightest when Keith's grip on his hand suddenly tightened, Keith's hair hanging over his eyes as he bit his lip hard enough to draw a drop of blood.

        "Hey...  _hey...! Keith,_ " Shiro called out to him worriedly, his free hand quickly reaching forward to clean off the blood that dribbled slowly down Keith's chin, but it was smacked unintentionally out of the way when Keith suddenly sat up, the bed sheets rustling loudly and Shiro wincing slightly when he felt Keith's fingernails digging into the skin of the hand he still held tightly.

        Realizing that he was hurting Shiro, Keith quickly let go and rubbed roughly at his puffy eyes, the apologetic smile he gave Shiro melting Shiro's heart but at the same time making it throb with anguish.

        There was pain in Keith's eyes. The same exact pain that Shiro was sure was reflecting in his own eyes in that moment as well. Though as much as it bothered him to see it in himself every time he looked in the mirror as the days left until the launch became less and less, it always hurt more to see it in Keith's eyes.

        His heart aching, and his brows furrowing as a reassuring smile spread across his face, Shiro reached out to him again and tenderly caressed the side of his face, thumb tracing a loving line across the rise of his cheekbone as if he could leave a permanent mark there that would somehow connect the two of them across the empty distance of space that would soon separate them.

        Maybe that wasn't possible -- maybe it was a ridiculous wish -- but Shiro did have something he wanted to do that would hold just as much significance as a mark that might bond the two of them together.

        A vow he wanted to make.

        A promise.

        That now, and even ten years in the future, they would still be together. 

        "Keith," he murmured gently, gaze softening as Keith's hand came up to grab his own, his violet gaze captured by Shiro's. The bed creaked gently underneath them as Shiro moved so that he could reach Keith, his hand slipping into Keith's hair again as he held the back of his head. "I love you," he said, and as his breath caused the strands of Keith's hair to flutter, the tears that Keith had been holding back finally fell, mingling with the warmth of Shiro's skin as their lips met in a bittersweet kiss. Warmth mingled and emotions flooded from the heart as the two of them embraced in a single and desperate motion, grasping tightly onto one another as though trying to kiss the pain away.   

        When they finally parted for air, Shiro smiled sadly and wrapped his arms tightly around Keith, as Keith clutched tightly onto him and buried his head against the crook of Shiro's neck, the soft beeps of the clock singing their gentle tune throughout the dark room.

        And then, against his will, the memory began to fade back into the present with the sharp sting of a needle that pierced his neck while he laid there on the metal table, but even still he clung onto the final moments of that last memory he had shared with Keith, using all he had as the words he'd said that night blazed brightly in his mind like a guiding light, and fed the dying flame of Keith's warmth within him with new life.

        Figures leered down at him from above, and colors and images began to blur in and out of focus once again as a blissful calm pressed upon him.

        _I love you so much Keith_ , he thought, his eyelids reluctantly growing heavy as shadowy figures lingered in his peripheral and a fog settled over his already dulled senses.

        And just before he slipped back into the familiar darkness that awaited him, he revived his promise. 

        He was going to get out; he would figure out a way to get out.

        Because just like he promised that night, in the same way that he promised now:

        " _No matter what happens; no matter what changes._

_Keith... I'll come back to you."_

 

'Cause every time, without fail: the further he tried to pull away, the closer he always ended up to Keith. So what would be the point in trying to give up now?

**Author's Note:**

> Check out these beautiful pieces on both of my artists's tumblrs ~ ! :D  
> [CyCyChang](http://cycychang.tumblr.com/post/167489207758/i-very-much-enjoyed-working-with-my-writer) ~  
> [Yaine](https://yainedraws.tumblr.com/post/167494688932/my-piece-for-the-shiro-big-bang-its-for) ~


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